Hogwarts: A TNG History
by Hideout Writer
Summary: The Star Trek characters arrive at Hogwarts. Standard disclaimers apply wherever as needed.
1. Chapter 1

"Hello, Q." q said. "It's good of you to meet me here."

Q muttered for a few moments, then said, "Not like I had a choice."

"Still," q replied, smiling slightly. "It was good of you to meet me here."

"Let's get to it." Q grumbled. "I'd rather not continue going over it."

"I've got an idea." q said. "Something that could be fun."

"What kind of fun?" Q asked, interested.

"The kind you used to get up to with Picard…before the Continuum came down around you." q replied. "You see, ever since we've arrived in this alternate reality, I've been bored out of my skull! Humanity is just another word synonymous with stupidity."

"I know." Q replied, taking a long pull on his coffee. "You'd have my sympathies, but I'm just as bored."

"Well, I did something pretty big, and held it for two Earth minutes. The Continuum should have come down around me for creating a trans-temporal black hole, unless they knew…whatever. So long as we play this right, we can have fun, and the Continuum will stay off our backs." q said. "Apparently, here, Picard and Data and Janeway and Sisko, and everybody else…they're just actors here. Data isn't really an android, he's a human called Brent Spinner."

"So?" Q asked. "Just spit this out already!"

"Fine," q whined. "Gosh!" he muttered. At Q's glare, he started. "We round up all the actors who played main characters in _The Next Generation_, and we throw them into…" q pulled out a book. "The Harry Potter series. To make it fun, we'll throw in the Golden trio, and three others who were playing in the movies that resulted from the books."

Q looked at the impudent boy. "And how will the Continuum not come after us?"

"Simple." q declared brashly. "Just film it, and release an edited tape every week as a TV show. Kitchen Nightmares makes a one hour episode out of a week's worth of work. All we'd have to do is…" q snapped his fingers lightly, barely making any noise. "And, since the actors are already well known, no problem!"

"And copyright?" Q asked. "Not that I listen to human laws, but what do you intend to do about it?"

"Simple." q said again, even more brashly. "I've discovered an entire website dedicated to online books that are a knock-off on various works of copy-written material. All we have to do is throw up a boring disclaimer saying something along the lines of 'this is for your entertainment only. We are not making any money off of this…blah blah boring blah." q slugged the remainder of his latte. "So. Are you in?"

"The rest of the world will think it's fiction, but the game is actually happening?" Q asked. q nodded.

"That's right." he said proudly.

"I'm in." Q said, looking at the youth. "You're a bad influence on me, you know that?"

"I know." q said. "and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll gather them." he snapped his fingers.

In a white expanse, LeVar Burton, Brent Spinner, Jonathan Frakes and the rest of the TNG main cast looked around.

"Well this is interesting." Jonathan said.

"Yeah…" LeVar Burton said. "I know all you guys, but why are we here? For that matter, where _is_ here?"

A moment later, three more actors showed up.

"Who are you guys?" the two groups asked each other.

After several moments of bedlam, both groups quieted down.

"I'm Daniel Radcliff, this is Emma Watson, and this is the Rupert Grint." Daniel said, gesturing to his friends in turn. "We starred in the Harry Potter movies."

The TNG cast introduced themselves, and the topic of discussion revert to where they were and why they were there.

Suddenly, q arrived with Q. Patrick Stewart face-palmed. "Of course." he muttered. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Hello." q said. "I have gathered you here for a game. I call it **Seven year survival!**" his words seemed to echo deeply, and the actors and actresses present exchanged nervous glances.

"Now. Here are the rules of the game.

Rule number one: If you die in the game, you will end up back in real life at the end of the week. If you die at the start of the week, tough luck, you've got seven days of limbo ahead of you.

Rule number two: If you intentionally get killed, you'll gain for yourself a week of pain, and I'll just throw you back into the game. The only exception is when you would have gotten killed doing something you would have done anyway…such as jumping in front of enemy fire to save your friend.

Rule number three: Anybody that you meet who is not currently here, or about to be here, will be oblivious to the fact that this is a game. Telling them will result in absolutely nothing more than people thinking you are crazy, plus a day of pain.

Rule number four: If you do anything to get a pain penalty, the pain will increase every time you commit such infractions.

Rule number five: Your goal is to survive to the end of the seven years.

Now, for the rewards. You will be paid a thousand dollars every week, and anybody who makes it to the end will win an additional million dollars, plus, I'll take care of any one problem. The survivors will need to come to a consensus about the problem I'm fixing, because it will be a worldwide occurrence. For instance, you could ask me to solve world hunger, and I'd do it. Please, don't ask for frivolous things like never getting traffic citations again in your life."

"Why are you doing this?" Patrick asked.

"Simple." q said. "I'm bored. Besides," he said, wheedling. "think of the benefit to humanity if at least one of you survive this. Now…you three. Select three more people from the Harry Potter movies you did."

Emma Watson was the first to speak. "Evanna Lynch." she said calmly.

"Very well." q said, snapping his fingers. Evanna Lynch appeared with the other Harry Potter stars.

"Where am I?" she asked. She looked around, seeing the other Harry Potter stars. "How did we end up here?"

"I brought you here." q said impatiently. "For a game."

"What do you mean? Are you some Harry Potter obsessed guy who also likes Star Trek?"

Both nearly immortal and nearly omnipotent beings doubled over laughing.

"That's rich!" q said, beating the ground in laughter.

"Oh my sides!" Q added, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

While the Qs were yukking it up, Emma explained the situation to Evanna. "So…basically, you picked me to take part in this game?"

"Sorry?"

"It's not a problem. Besides, I get to actually _be_ Luna this time around."

"Tom Felton." Daniel said, cutting through the remaining laughter of the Q. "We were good friends."

Tom Felton instantly appeared in the white lobby. "Daniel!" he said. "I was just thinking about you. Where are we, and how did I get here?"

"Long story short, those two are pretty close to omnipotent, and we," Daniel gestured to everyone else in the area. "Have just been entered into a game. Emma, Rupert and I had to chose a total of three more people for the game, so I chose you because you're my friend."

Tom nodded his understanding. "Okay, so…Luna and Draco…who's the third?"

"Alan Rickman." Rupert said at last.

If he were wearing anything more than his pajamas, Alan would have been rather intimidating. As it was, he seemed like a slightly dangerous teddy bear.

"Ok, you could use a bit of a wardrobe upgrade, there, Rickman." q said, staring in horror at the pajamas. He snapped his fingers, and Alan found himself wearing a black robe that billowed impressively when he so much as took a single step. "I assume that I will be reprising my role in the Harry Potter series?" he asked blandly.

"Correct!" q said, briefly looking like a gameshow host. "Q, tell him what he's won!"

"You win a trip to the Harry Potter series!" Q said, following along. "For seven primetime television years, you will live in the shoes and memories of Professor Severus Snape! You will also be paid one thousand dollars each week, with the chance to win one million dollars for yourself if you survive to the end!"

Rickman turned towards where the Golden Trio was standing, and strode towards them. Rupert and Daniel flinched purely out of 'on-set' instinct, while Emma looked a little unsure of herself.

"Explain…this…thing." He said dangerously.

"It's a game that q and…well, Q are playing. We all get to live out our roles for real. If we survive, we each get a million bucks, and they will do something big for us…_if_ we have a consensus about it." Emma explained.

"In other words, I really will be Severus Snape." Alan said. "Great."

"Isn't it?" q asked, looking far too cheerful. Snape smirked, then punched q full in the nose.

The annoying omnipotent being reeled back in shock. "You punched me!" he said. "Janeway never punched me!"

"I said the same thing to Sisko, son." Q said, moving to his son's side. "Except that I was whining about Picard never punched me."

"And I wish he had!" Patrick said.

"Now now now," Q said faux soothingly. "He…_you_ would not have been Picard if you had."

"I just thought of something." Daniel said suddenly. "Muggle stuff doesn't work at Hogwarts or any other magic-rich area. Isn't Data an android…essentially, a load of muggle stuff?"

"He is quite right." Brent said. "If you intend to make me into the android I portrayed, then I would be unable to function in this game of yours."

"That's not a problem." Q said. "You can be Data regardless. I'm Q, remember? I can do nearly anything, allowing your positronic brain to function around magic is simple in comparison to some of the things I've done. I'll also let LaForge's VISOR function as well."

LeVar Burton groaned. "I'd hoped he had forgotten that thing." he said. "It was a real pain to work with."

"Well, then." Q said happily. "Shall we begin?"

Suddenly, Brent Spiner was Data, wearing his Starfleet uniform. "Most intriguing, captain." he said. He saw that the others were not in uniform. "Are we on leave, sir?"

"No, Data." Patrick said. "Q is playing a game with us."

"Ah."

Q snapped his fingers, and everyone present, with the exception of Snape, appeared to be eleven years old again. Everyone was also firmly in-character, leaving Harry to wonder just why he'd chosen Draco to come along.

"I think that does it." Q said, stepping back to view his work. Picard had hair again, and did not seem happy in the slightest.

"Put me back, Q!" he tried to roar. His voice was too high for it, and had Riker mildly amused.

"Sir, your voice…" he stopped abruptly, clamping a hand over his mouth while the others laughed a little.

"Yes, I know very damn well about my voice!" Picard snapped. "Your voice isn't much better."

"I should wash your mouth out with soap." Q admonished. "But I'll forgive your potty mouth this one time. Now, time to go…"

_Everything flashed blindingly white…_


	2. Chapter 2

Picard grunted with the exertion of pushing a trunk onto the overhead rack before sitting down.

"_Captain's Log, Stardate…er, Gregorian Calendar date September first, nineteen ninety one. The bridge crew of the Enterprise have been thrown into the distant past by Q, a rather powerful entity we first encountered during our first mission. In addition to having been so abruptly displaced temporally speaking, we have all been physically reset to the age of eleven, and sent to a school of magic called Hogwarts. All of my Starfleet equipment appears to function, though my tricorder insisted that the wall I walked through was solid. I find myself puzzled by the situation I find myself in, and wondering about what purpose Q could have for sending us here."_

Geordi entered the compartment, with his VISOR on, and Picard looked up.

"You don't mind if I sit with you, do you sir?" Geordi asked.

"Not at all." Picard said, maintaining as much dignity as he could for being eleven years old. "Let me help you with that. I learned from experience that these trunks are heavy!"

"They are at that, sir." Geordi agreed, and together the two of them managed to wrangle the trunk onto the rack.

Geordi sat down opposite of Picard. "So, what are we doing here, exactly, sir?" he asked.

"I have no idea." Picard replied. "Though my best guess is that we are somehow providing entertainment for Q." his mouth twitched in a decidedly hostile manner, before he said, "Honestly, I preferred entertaining Q in my own time period. At least there I knew some of the rules! Here, I know nearly nothing, aside from the fact that the wizarding culture is obsessed with wearing dresses."

"They are called robes, sir." Data said, entering. "I see Geordi already found you. Commander Riker is on his way shortly with Counselor Troi."

He sat down next to Geordi, after easily placing his trunk on the overhead rack. A moment later, William and Deanna entered.

"Hello, sir." he said, hiding a smile. He still found the sight of his captain as an eleven-year old to be a bit amused.

"Number one." Picard responded tightly. He knew of Riker's amusement with the situation, and hoped it would wear off.

There was a knock at the door yet again.

"Enter!" Picard called out. The door opened, and Worf walked in, looked about the same as he'd looked every day on the _Enterprise_, the only difference being that he was eleven years old. He hefted his trunk to the rack without asking for, or receiving help with it.

"So, we're all here except for Dr. Crusher." Riker said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I'd noticed that." Picard responded dryly.

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On a higher plane of existence, Q and q were watching the proceedings while eating popcorn. About fifteen minutes into the train ride, q received a message. Evidently, the official forum for the show had just received another comment. He read it, then debated the idea with Q. The debate lasted approximately an eighth of a millisecond, with the question being who was to do the actual work involved in the request.

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"What do you make of it, Mr. Paris?" Kathryn Janeway asked, sitting down.

"If it weren't for the fact that we're all eleven years old, I'd say we're in one of the programs you like to run from time to time." Tom replied.

"It does have that feel to it, doesn't it?" Janeway asked. "Who else is here?"

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A moment later, it opened, and Tuvok entered. "I found the rest of the train to be full, captain. May I join you for the journey?"

"You certainly may, Tuvok." Janeway replied warmly. "So what do you think?" she gestured around the compartment.

"Considering the fact that Vulcans grow older as we live on, I find it logical to suggest that Q may have been the cause for our sudden lack of age, as well as our current surroundings." Tuvok said, hoisting his trunk.

A moment later, Harry Kim and the Doctor entered.

"Ah, captain, there you are." the Doctor said, seemingly relieved. "Would anybody mind telling me what is going on here?"

"Q, more than likely." she sighed. "Where's your trunk?"

"Evidently, I don't need one." the Doctor said, frowning slightly. "After all, I'm only a hologram."

"Come on Doc, cheer up." Kim said. "I'm willing to bet that your belongings are all holographic as well. Besides, it means you don't have to heft your…_oof_…trunk." With his trunk up on the rack, Harry sat down. "Those things are heavy." he said, after catching his breath.

Tom nodded sympathetically, having lifted his own as well as Captain Janeway's trunk earlier.

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The door to Picard's compartment opened, and a blond-haired individual strode in, followed by a rather dense looking pair.

"Can we help you?" Picard asked politely, looking up at the platinum-blond hair. Something was familiar about him, but he wasn't sure what.

"I've been instructed to make beneficial alliances with others in my year." the youth replied. He stuck out his hand to shake. My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

The name clicked and Picard's face showed recognition. "Ah, yes. The Malfoy family. Last I heard, they had a vineyard in France, but they only produced passable wines. Most of their fortune was obtained from tourists who didn't know what they were buying."

"That was my great-great-grandfather." Draco said sourly. "It was because of him that our family moved to Briton, hoping to leave his disgrace behind us." He blatantly glared at Worf before turning back to Picard. "What did you say your name was?"

"Jean-Luc Picard." he said easily. Malfoy looked at him with a new-found respect.

"I could help you navigate school politics." he said. "It wouldn't do for a Picard to be hanging about with the wrong sort of people." he leveled another blatant glare towards Worf. "Half-breeds are especially undesirable."

Picard, who was about to accept Malfoy's proffered hand, flinched backwards as if burned. "Mr. Worf has proven himself many times." he said angrily.

"And I am no half-breed." Worf growled. "Now leave, before I kill you for your slight against my honor." Worf brandished a dagger, and Malfoy's eyes widened considerably before he turned tail and left.

"I understand that he besmirched your honor, Mr. Worf." Picard said. "But until we can find out what the rules are here, I must ask that you not do that again."

Worf growled something in Klingon, but put away his dagger, and sat down. "Very well, Captain. But if he tries it again, I will challenge him to a duel, and kill him for his insults!"

Picard frowned, but didn't say anything.

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When the train finally rolled into the station at Hogsmead, the sun was setting. Everyone was in their robes, and waiting to exit.

"Firs' years!" came the bellowing cry. "Firs' years to me!"

Between the older students leaving the platform to enter the carriages and the first year students pushing through towards the bellowing cry, they quickly cleared the crowd, and saw a very large man. "Firs' years!" he cried once more. "Is that all of ye? Right, let's be off now. No more'n three to a boat!"

As soon as everyone was in their boat, the giant gestured with a large umbrella. "Forward!"

Much to Picard's surprise, the boats jerked slightly, and began to move forward across the lake.

"Sir, the other students were entering carriages and going directly up to the school." Data commented. "Why are the first year students taking a longer trip?"

"Possibly to instill a feeling of adventure." Picard said, sounding resigned. "Not that I mind. Did you see those things pulling the carriages?"

"I did not." Data replied. He cocked his head to the side. "Perhaps you were seeing things, sir?"

"No Data, I was not seeing things." Picard answered.

"Are you sure?" Data pressed. "Perhaps Dr. Crusher could examine you at a later date?"

"I know what I saw, Data." Picard replied firmly. "I am not ill, or intoxicated." There was an ever so slight hint of anger in his words.

Data somehow seemed to take the hint. "Of course sir." he said softly. A moment later, he added "I shall be certain to inform Dr. Crusher of your defensive attitude. Perhaps it is a symptom."

Picard looked irritated, but didn't comment further on it.

The flock of boats went around a bend, and Picard looked up, hearing the awestruck gasps of others. There, in all it's glory, was a large castle, lights gleaming inside. Picard was impressed with how well-preserved it looked, but then remembered: magic was at play here. More than likely, it didn't take too much to keep Hogwarts in good condition. The name had stuck in Picard's mind, and he tried, with some amusement, to figure out what could have caused anybody to call it 'Hogwarts'.

The boats passed under an ivy-covered arch, and Data twitched slightly. "Did you feel that, sir?" he asked softly.

"What was it?" Picard whispered back.

"There was a pulse of some kind. It lasted exactly sixteen milliseconds, and registered at one quarter of a millicochrane."

"I thought I'd seen something." Geordi said reflectively. "It was sort of like a…pink flash of sorts. I'd just thought it was a figment of my imagination, but considering how brief it was, it makes sense."

Their conversation halted as the boat bumped against the dock, causing Picard to say "We'll speak about it later."

They looked up at the door, which opened as if on cue. A rather stern looking woman in emerald green robes came out.

"The firs' years for yeh, Professor McGonagall." said the large man who had brought the group.

"Thank you, Hagrid." she said, nodding slightly. She turned to the new students. "Welcome to Hogwarts." she said. "My name is Professor McGonagall. Please follow me." With that, she led the group of students into the castle.

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_Review responses:_

_NinthFeather: I don't know how it will play out. I'm just as much a spectator on this one as you are. Q and his son are letting me watch and write down what I see. That's about it. On another note, are you an Alan Rickman fan-girl?_

_hermione-of-vulcan: Q and q (to me, at least) always represented a sense of fun, excitement, and adventure. Sometimes it was a little more excitement than would be considered healthful, but…that's just how it is. As for Daniel and Tom then Harry and Draco, the decision was rather rushed. Had the 'Golden Trio' thought about what they were doing, Neville would have been there, not Draco, and I imagine that somebody other than Professor Snape would have been selected. They chose based on off-set personality, when they should have chosen based on their characters in the books/movies. (shrugs hopelessly) Their loss._

_Dracarot: Request Granted._

_physicssquid: Request Granted. There's not as much humor here, but knowing what I know about Q and his son, there will probably be more of it._

_RoughIslandSunrise: I'm glad you like it. As for the question of keeping their magic…well, we are talking about Q and q here…almost anything is possible._

Guest:_ Please take the time to register a username, 'guest' is so…impersonal. As for your requests, Q seemed particularly happy with them, though he didn't like the idea of Kia Opaka. Sorry. Last I checked, q is dashing around the multiverse, in search of a (and I quote) 'sonic thing!'._

_As far as requests go…direct those questions to Q and q, since they are the ones making those sorts of decisions. As you can see, they've already decided to grant some of your requests._


	3. Chapter 3

As McGonagall led the students, she began to explain some of the things that would be part of life at Hogwarts.

"…you will be sorted into one of four houses, where you will remain for the seven years of your education here. Your house is like your family, and I expect you to treat them as such." she said. She opened a door and waved the students in. "We are not ready for you yet, so wait here until I call for you."

With that, she walked away.

Conversation started up, filling the room with a muted buzz as the various students chattered amongst themselves.

Several pearly-white figures drifted through a wall, conversing amongst themselves, inadvertently eliciting a few screams in shock or terror from the first years. The screaming brought them out of their conversation.

"Oho! First years about to be sorted?" asked one. Most of the students managed to nod, and the ghost nodded merrily. "Oh good. It's always nice to see fresh faces around here. I'm the Fat Friar, and I hope to see some of you in Hufflepuff, my old house when I was a student here."

Eventually, the ghosts drifted away, just as McGonagall opened the door. "This way." she said crisply. She led the group to a massive pair of oaken doors, which she opened. "Wait here at the end of the hall. When I call your name, please come up." With that, she strode to the center table, and set down a stool and a battered, threadbare hat.

Picard took the time to survey the hall, noting the colors of the four tables with students already seated and waiting expectantly. A moment later, the hat ripped itself open, near the brim, and began singing. Picard gave it his full attention.

"_Oh you may not think me pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_And your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set the Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw_

_If you've a ready mind_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

With that, McGonagall stood, slightly to the side of the stool, holding a large scroll.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

After a few moments, a girl broke free of the group, and timidly walked between the four tables to where the hat sat waiting on the stool. She sat down, and put the hat over her head. After a few moments, the hat yelled out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bashir, Julian!"

Julian strode down the isle confidently, doing his best to show the level of decorum that would have been expected of him in Starfleet.

"_What's this? A healer. Hmm, I can see that you are rather loyal, but you thirst for knowledge. Oh, Salazar would have loved that move! Still, you rarely dip into cunning to get your way, preferring knowledge. You'd better be…"_ the Hat trailed off in Bashir's mind, and yelled out "RAVENCLAW!"

"Chakotay!"

Sisko looked up. "What are the Maquis doing here?" he muttered.

"_Hmm, you command respect without resorting to violence…the crew you serve with sees you as a father figure…yes, better be…"_ "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Chakotay nodded in acceptance, and went over to sit with Julian. McGonagall read the next name.

"Crusher, Beverly!"

Picard nodded to her in encouragement, and after a moment's hesitation, she trotted towards the Hat.

"_Can we just get right to it?"_ she pleaded.

"_Loyal to your ship, not afraid to take on the messy tasks…better be"_ "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Data!" The android nodded, and walked forward, head cocked slightly to one side in curiosity.

"_Hmm. What an interesting mind. I'd put you in Ravenclaw, but you don't have the same driving need for knowledge…you are loyal to your captain and shipmates…"_

"_If I may interpose, I believe that I would be best placed in Hufflepuff, as those qualities mentioned in your song line up with my own."_ Data said.

"_Quite right, albeit slightly impatient."_ the hat tsked. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Dax, Jadzia!"

With a smile to Sisko, and a slight blush, Jadzia walked towards the Hat.

"_TWO? What on Earth…oh. What an interesting arrangement. Well, since we see more of the host than the symbiote, I shall sort Jadzia. You have a keen mind, well suited for searching through computers. You certainly know what you're doing, but I also see a childlike curiosity for everything around you. Better be…"_ "RAVENCLAW!"

Jadzia dipped her head slightly, still blushing, and she ran to sit beside Bashir.

"Headmaster, is this correct?" McGonagall asked, handing the scroll to Dumbledore.

"I've never known it to lie, Minerva." Albus said gently.

She tsked sharply, but read the next entry regardless. "EMH!" she called.

The Emergency Medical Hologram walked forward, and said "Pardon me, but I prefer the term 'Doctor'." With that he sat down, smiling. "Well, sort away!" he said.

The hat passed through him, snagging on the portable emitter.

"I can't sort this." the hat said, irritated. "Be solid, would you?"

"Oh! My apologies." the hologram said. He fiddled with the emitter for a moment, after Minerva had retrieved the hat. "How about now?"

"_Another healer, but you are not as gentle. A strong sense of duty, strict adherence to what's right and wrong…unafraid to try new things to save a patient. It's really hard to say. Most healers came out of Hufflepuff, but I couldn't put Julian there, and I can't put you there. Yes, better be…"_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindors looked uncertain, but after a few moments, started clapping.

"Guinan!"

She calmly sat down, and the hat descended over her head, only to say "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Hansen, Annika!"

"My designation is Seven of Nine." came the cold reply.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Janeway, Kathryn!"

"That's _captain_ Janeway to you." she muttered, stepping forward.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Kim, Harry!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"LaForge, Geordi!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"SLYTHERIN!" Draco smiled smugly, and sauntered over to Slytherin as if he owned the house.

Ignoring his display, McGonagall continued. "Neelix!"

The Talaxian quickly found himself making friends at the Gryffindor table.

"Nerys, Kira!" The former resistance leader walked forward, and sat down on the stool.

"_Hmm, you are quite ambitious, sometimes resorting to underhanded tricks to get what you want. Still, I think you would do better in…"_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

"O'Brien, Miles!"

DS9's Chief Engineer ended up in Hufflepuff, and noted with some amusement that his uniform was also yellow and black.

"Odo?"

The shape shifter groaned, but went forward.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The crowd had diminished considerably, as they were moving through the alphabet, but Picard was beginning to grow impatient. He pulled down slightly on his robes, to straighten them out, then resumed standing 'at-ease'.

"Paris, Tom!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Picard, Jean-Luc!" McGonagall said.

Picard strode forward, every inch of his eleven-year old frame radiating the confidence and demeanor of a starship captain. When he stopped at the stool, he looked up to McGonagall, and said "It is pronounced 'John-Luke', not 'Jean-luck'." With that, he sat, and allowed the hat to settle on his head.

"_What an interesting mind we have here."_ the hat commented. _"Let's see, you've dared to be sarcastic towards near-omnipotent beings, got stabbed in the back by Nossigans, bested a trial that was heavily slanted against you, made first contact with several cultures…very interesting indeed. You will be best suited in the noble house of…"_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Potter, Harry!"

The hall went silent for a moment, then whispering started up.

A small eleven year old went forward, and as the hat sorted him, he seemed to be pleading with the hat. After a few moments, the hat said "GRYFFINDOR!" causing the entire table to cheer. A set of red-headed twins started up, saying "We've got Potter, We've got Potter!" in a singsong chant, as if they had won a championship.

After they settled, and Harry made his way to the table, McGonagall consulted her list, then said "Quark!"

"She said my name!" the Ferengi said, rubbing his ears excitedly. He ran forward, profit and oo-maks dancing in his head.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shrieked, trying to get off the Ferengi's head.

McGonagall chuckled, then read out "Riker, William!"

Riker sat down, and the hat promptly cried out "GRYFFINDOR!" with a broad grin, Riker joined his captain at the table.

"Sisko, Benjamin!"

As soon the hat settled over his head, Sisko saw white, and the sound of his heartbeat thundered loudly around him.

"_The Sisko must be sorted."_ said a voice.

"_The Sisko has lost much."_ said a second.

"_And learned more."_

"_The Sisko is brave."_

"_A needful trait for command."_

"_The Sisko is loyal."_

"_Only to the Sisko's friends. If the Sisko thought everyone else was wrong, the Sisko would let them all burn. The Sisko would not do well in Hufflepuff."_

"_The Sisko knows."_

"_Instinctually. The Sisko would never let the pursuit of knowledge be the single-most driving force. The Sisko's concerns are different."_

"_The Sisko is cunning."_

"_Indeed. The Sisko could do well in Slytherin."_

"_The Sisko would not be happy there. The Sisko's tolerance for such cunning as you speak of is limited."_

"_Then we have consensus?"_

"_The Sisko's place is…"_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

With that, Sisko gratefully shoved the hat off his head, and went to the Gryffindor table, slightly shaken by his experience under the hat.

"Torres, B'Elanna!"

The half-Klingon engineer strode forward, ignoring the curious looks of the other students, though her face showed some irritation. She was quickly sorted into Gryffindor.

"Troi, Deanna!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat seemed to sink in on itself, as if tired. "Never sorted an empath before…" he muttered softly.

"Tuvok!"

The hat remained motionless on Tuvok's head for nearly four minutes, before eventually shouting out "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Worf!"

Worf sat down, and McGonagall was lowering the hat when it cried out "GRYFFINDOR!"

Several students started whispering, and Worf smirked. The hat's voice carried a bit of fear in it, which he thought appropriate.

With everyone sorted, McGonagall put the hat away, and Dumbledore stood up. "Now, I have a number of announcements to make, but since I am sure that you are all very hungry, I shall wait until after the meal." He waved his arms, and food appeared on the tables. "Dig in!"

.

_._

_._

_Review Responses:_

_Q and q: Speaking to…Dracarot…we the Q commend you for your ability to quote back large sections of the episode, and as far as the fortune goes…who do you think is paying for all this? Don't worry though, most of it was legitimately acquired through a variety of investments. And yes, after the second episode, the money has been pouring in. As for Quark…what do you think he's doing? Q recruited him as their agent for the show, and the advertisers are in bidding wars to get spots on this show._

_As far as your idea of having the actors watching…no. Sorry, not happening._

_q: Oh, and I already know all about my father's involvement in that show. I'm the one who made him do it, after he lost a bet. And yes, I can hold that over him, but if I lose a bet, that would come back to bite me rather mightily. I'd rather not suffer my Dad's wrath on that point._

_Q: Indeed. I'm still a bit miffed about that, Junior. Anyway, Dracarot, your attempt at bribery has failed spectacularly. I'm thinking I should…*checks review* turn you inside out, implode you back to normal, then turn you into a migrating coconut. Actually, that last one sounded alright. However, I won't actually do it, because I don't want dear Jean-Luc or Kathy to get themselves worked up about it. *pouts slightly* oh well, it could have been fun._

_Now, on to the next reviewer…RUGoing2writethat…yes, I am going to write that, thank you very much, and yes, other characters that haven't shown up yet may appear as professors. I'm glad you enjoy this story, as it means that, for once, we've picked out a human that we could accurately predict._

_Next! Oh, q, you can handle this one._

_q: Right…RoughIslandSunrise…please check your spelling next time, I could barely interpret that, and I've got the ability to manipulate space and time! Anyway…no. Simply no. For one, I doubt that Microbrain, as father likes to call him, would know what girly even looks like. Secondly, your idea had me dunking my eyes in brain bleach to get the latent image off my retinas. Simply put, no way, no how, uh-uh!_

_Q: Well put, Junior. Now, if anybody would like to leave a review, we'll be glad to answer them. Oh, and Junior? Did you find that sonic thing yet?_


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